Room and Board | By : sillyneko345 Category: +G through L > Jak & Daxter Views: 25356 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 7 |
Disclaimer: I do not own the game this story is based on (Jak & Daxter) nor do I make any money from writing it. |
Characters: Belong to Naughty Dog, Inc.
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“Oh, wow, they’re gonna go for it! They’re totally gonna go for it! Can ya believe that?”
The smoke from Razer’s cigarette eddied around their heads in the cool night air as he exhaled, scanning the field with a critical eye. “It looks like Jak has convinced them. Very bold. I wonder if he can pull it off.”
“Of course he can pull it off,” Daxter scoffed, cramming another handful of stadium popcorn into his mouth. “Jak’s awesome. He can do it.”
“We shall see.”
Nice as it was to have some company so he didn’t feel completely out of place in the stands (and also someone to explain the game to him), the suave transfer student needed a crash course in cheerleading. Batting a dismissive hand at his companion, Daxter turned his attention back to the gridiron.
It was the first football game that he had ever attended, mostly because it was the first football game he had ever given a crap about. Having a friend down there made all the difference. However, it didn’t hurt that it had been a very exciting game. It was also a very close game—sudden-death overtime, to be exact. Coach Sig was having a coronary on the sidelines. Five yard line, fourth down, and Jak had decided that they would chance it. The redhead watched with bated breath as the opposing teams went back into position after the short time out.
Suddenly there was a shrill whistle, and then a tumult of motion. Daxter slid to the edge of his bleacher seat, peering down intently. From their seats less than twenty rows up he was easily able to spot Jak. For some reason he felt a swell of pride as he watched his friend breeze along effortlessly, as if nothing in the world could touch him. But the other team was moving, too.
“Razer, I don’t understand football—what’s happening?!”
“The other team is trying a blitz,” Razer explained as his carefully casual voice rose in excitement despite himself, right along with everyone else in the overflowing stadium. “They were supposed to have waited several seconds, but they’ve broken too soon—they’re going to take Jak down!”
“Like hell they will!” Daxter yelled indignantly, popcorn scattering to the winds as he jumped to his feet. “Dammit, I can’t see!” Sometimes it really sucked to be short. Like in the middle of crowds. He scrambled on top of the bench and could suddenly see above the sea of heads and shoulders; no less than three players were closing in on Jak, determined to take the quarterback out before he could finish that scale-tipping run. “Oh shit, oh, shit—hey, there’s Phoenix!”
Razer’s ears went up in interest as Phoenix raced in at an angle, on a crash course with the three tailing Jak. “What is that crazy boy—?!”
There was a collective gasp from the crowd as Phoenix left the ground and collided with one of the players on Jak’s heels, hitting him square at the waist. Whether he had planned it or not, the resulting effect was almost unbelievable: the first man crashed into the second, the second slammed into the third, and they all went down in a glorious display of flailing limbs as Jak ran under the goal post, still firmly in possession of the ball.
“They did it!” Daxter whooped, laughing in his relief as the Haven U side of the stadium promptly lost their shit in a deafening chorus of victory cheers and screaming. “Oh, man, that was awesome! Did you see that, Razer?”
But Razer wasn’t listening. His eyes were still riveted to the field, and to the figure of his roommate getting shakily to his knees. One of Phoenix’s hands dipped past the grill of his helmet, only to come out darkly stained.
Daxter’s excitement dimmed a bit as he realized that Sig was jogging out onto the field, and Jak was even running back to where Phoenix knelt. “Wow, looks like he got clipped pretty good. Hope he’s okay… hey, where ya goin’?”
There was no answer; mostly because Razer was no longer beside him. He was knocking past their fellow bleacher-goers in manner most at odds with his usual aloof, polite calm. Daxter was after him in a moment, but by the time the redhead hit the aisle of stairs leading down to solid ground, Razer was already at the bottom and vaulting the waist-high barrier of Plexiglas between bleachers and turf.
“Are you nuts?! You can’t go down there! Razer!”
If the other had heard, he showed no sign. He reached the bench at almost the same moment Phoenix limped up, arm braced around Jak’s shoulders and blood pouring down his helmetless face from under the hand he had clapped over his eye.
“If he says Phoenix ain’t his best pal after this, I’m callin’ massive bullshit,” Daxter muttered to himself as he squeezed, ducked, and weaved in and out of the surging crowd until he could secure a spot on the partition wall as close as he could come to the bench. There he parked, and there he could hear the conversation down on the field even as the noisy rabble in the stands emptied out of the stadium to celebrate their victory. “You doin’ okay down there, Mr. Amazing Game-Savin’ Tackle Machine?” he yelled.
Jak saw him leaning over the barrier and waved, Phoenix’s helmet in hand. The faceguard was bent out of place. “He’s okay! Got kicked in the face. Somebody’s foot came up just right. Cleat caught him on the eyebrow.”
“Well, that’s what happens when ya take down three guys at once!” Dax laughed. Good. It looked like Phoenix was going to have a headache for a while, but it also looked like he was going to be fine.
Indeed, even the field medics who had run to the running back’s side had cleared out. Instead he was left to collect himself on the bench surrounded by boisterous teammates, an ecstatic coach who seemed to be trying his best to reign in the congratulatory backslaps, and a fussing roommate intent on mopping up the mess. Razer’s hand firmly cupped Phoenix’s chin, keeping his friend’s head tipped back as he pressed a wet cloth to the long cut above his left eye.
“Razer, I’m alright, really!” Phoenix laughed weakly, eyes closed under the thorough care.
The ebony-haired man snorted and didn’t lessen his hold. “Pssssh. Of course you are. You only had a cleat go through your faceguard. You’re only bleeding all over yourself. Tell me, was winning the game really important enough to warrant you being maimed? I thought you had lost an eye! Hold still.”
Daxter grinned as he watched them, catching bits and pieces of their back-and-forth argument. It seemed that Razer was much more attached to Phoenix than he liked to let on, after all.
The stadium emptied fairly quickly. Dax hung around, not knowing what else to do with himself for the moment. There was plenty of tailgating still going on in the parking lot, and the annual Quad Bash would begin within the hour, but the prospect of going alone wasn’t all that appealing.
Jak finally escaped from the rest of the team giving him and Phoenix entirely deserved accolades—tired, sweaty, and disheveled, but grinning from ear to ear. He trotted over to the partition. “Hey, Dax! Did you see all that?”
“Uh, duh. How could I not see it? It was all over the view screen!” Still, he reached out to bump fists in victory. “Great job out there, big guy. You were awesome. Great call ta go fer that last play. You won ‘em the game!”
“Phoenix won us the game,” Jak corrected, glancing back over his shoulder at the two on the bench. “If he hadn’t tackled those guys I probably wouldn’t have made it. We’re a good team.”
“That’s so touching, I think I’m gonna hurl,” Daxter sighed theatrically. “Anyway. What totally awesome plans do you guys have fer afterwards? Bet there’s a team party in the works, huh?”
Jak shook his head and smiled, raking a hand through his hair. “No, I don’t think so. We were planning to meet up at the Quad Bash after everyone got cleaned up, but Phoenix sure isn’t up for it. I think I’ll sit it out, too.” His ears perked suddenly. “Hey, me and you could go get something to eat. The pizzerias will probably be backed up for hours, but there’s that burger place over on University Street. Want to?”
Really, the redhead should have been expecting a stunt like this. So he held off signs of outright amazement. “You sure? I mean, are you really sure? Yer teammates will miss ya. The hot fangirls will miss ya. The drunk, hot fangirls that smuggle booze into the party will miss the hot, manly, heroic stud of a quarterback that just helped win the Homecoming game, Jak! Does that compute?”
“Dax, please. I have zero interest in picking up a girl that isn’t Keira.” The green-blonde rolled his eyes in obvious exasperation. “After all that, I just want to relax for a while. We can catch a party some other weekend. Unless… uh.” His ears began to take on the sad-puppy droop. “You can go on, if you want. You don’t need to miss out just because I don’t want to go.”
“No, no, that ain’t it, sheesh! Just thought I’d give ya one last chance ta recover yer marbles. Burgers sound awesome.”
“Great! I’m—”
“Wait, wait. Let me guess. You’re starving.”
Jak huffed at the smart, but true, comment. “Yes, as a matter of fact I am. I’m going to go get out of my gear and shower, and make sure Phoenix doesn’t need anything. Meet me out on the front steps in fifteen and we’ll go celebrate, okay?”
“That’s a plan, big guy. Catch ya in a few.”
- - - - -
True to his word, Daxter was there at the appointed time. He watched the last of the stragglers leave the stadium, most of them sporting varying levels of intoxication. The redhead watched them wistfully. Damn, it looked like fun to drink. Not that he would know. The last set of foster folks kept the entire ship of almost a dozen kids on a short leash, and he’d had no friends old enough to bum booze from. Ah, well. Colleges were the undisputed breeding grounds of illicit sippin’. Maybe Ximon could hook him up sometime.
Jak came out in short order, hair shower-damp with his duffle bag thrown over one shoulder. “Okay, all set. Razer’s going to walk with Phoenix back to the dorm. You ready?”
“You know it, pal. Chili cheese fries, here I come! I think that popcorn actually just made me hungrier.”
Avoiding the still-crowded stadium lot, the two made their way down a sidewalk in the opposite direction. It was a cool night, but not cold, perfect for walking in jackets and jeans and sneakers. Apparently they weren’t the only ones to think so, either. They had hardly left the shadow of the stadium for the brighter lights of the walkways when they ran into the cheerleaders.
Jak stopped in his tracks so fast that Dax almost ran into him from behind.
“Uh, hello, roadblock!” He glanced around Jak’s suddenly motionless form. “Oh, wow. Never mind. I guess we took the scenic route.”
Just as in high school, they moved in a pack. A strutting, gorgeous, coifed, perfectly untouchable pack headed by the prettiest and most untouchable one of all. Daxter stepped back almost automatically, knowing full well it was Jak they were honing in on. That didn’t mean he couldn’t look, however. Heeeyyy, baby!
“Jaaa~k!” The leader of the pack called, waving frantically though it was obvious they had already seen her. The whole giggling group of them stopped in front of the frozen quarterback. “We were wondering where you were! Awesome game! You were great out there tonight.”
“Thanks. The cheers were pretty great, too.” The smile in Jak’s voice was totally fake.
Daxter glanced up at his friend in surprise. Jak had, like, seven total babes practically begging for his attention, but he didn’t look happy. Pretty much the opposite. Dax tilted his head in puzzlement. What wasn’t there to be happy about, here?
“So, are you going to the party?” The spokes-girl of the squad had already changed out of her deliciously short uniform and into something equally revealing, if casual. Her fake lashes glittered from ten paces as she fluttered them coyly. The blonde highlights in her hair caught the light of the street lamps as she flicked it over her shoulder. “I heard it’s gonna be killer. There’s a live DJ.”
“Uh, yeah, I heard that too. But, uh… I don’t think I’m going.”
“Huh?” Her ears drooped as an adorable, confused little pout formed on her pink lips. “Why not?”
“Sorry. But I already have plans. Me and my friend are—” Jak looked at the empty spot beside him. No Daxter. Blue eyes widened in something between fear and panic. Then he looked back over his shoulder at the hovering redhead and dragged his very surprised friend to his side with a firm arm around bony shoulders. “We were just now taking off. Already made plans, you know?”
“Aww. Are you sure? We were kind of hoping you’d come hang out with us.” She leaned forward juuust so and inhaled just a bit too much. Suddenly, bosoms. Impudently jutting bosoms. Daxter’s eyes widened a fraction. “Can’t you change your plans? Your friend can come too, if he wants.”
Daxter blinked. He did a double take. Say what, now? Did she just say what he thought she just…? Yes. She did say that. Whoa! That sounded like a great idea! That was obviously the best idea ever! Daxter looked up at Jak for confirmation of The Best Idea Ever, the light of joy and miracles shining in his hopeful gaze, but the green-blonde didn’t even bat an eyelash.
“Not this time, sorry. Maybe next time! We gotta get going. See you later!”
Daxter was nearly stunned. He put up no fight, letting Jak lead him away. The bigger guy was projecting a sense of obvious relief that would have been better suited to a wildebeest that had just escaped a deadly encounter with an ambushing crocodile. Behind them, Dax clearly heard the girls begin to chatter sadly.
“Wow, the party they’re going to must be really, really cool if Jak’s going to miss the Quad Bash! Like, VIP only!”
“Totally! Damn it, he is just so awesome! Oooh, I just hate his girlfriend, whoever she is.”
Faint giggles trialed off as the girls headed on toward the quad, apparently content with the trying and ready to move on to easier targets.
Daxter waited until they were a good distance away before saying anything. “Sheezus, Jak, what the hell was that?! That was like the single most awkward thing I have ever seen you do!”
“Shut up! I don’t do vultures, okay?” Jak looked flustered even with the danger past. “Keira was always there to keep them off in high school, but now they’re everywhere! I’ve told the entire cheerleading squad I’m in a long distance relationship and they keep hitting on me anyway.” He looked honestly confused by their lack of hint-taking.
“Well, duh. They think a good lookin’ guy like you wouldn’t mind steppin’ off the straight an’ narrow for a little hook-up even if he is taken, know what I’m sayin’?” He grinned, slugging Jak playfully on the arm. “But seriously, would it really be so bad ta take one of ‘em out? You had fun with Keira, didn’t ya? And yer not really dating her, right, so it’s cool.”
“I had fun with Keira because we were already friends, Dax. It takes a lot for me to get close to people. I’m not interested in one night with some girl I don’t even know. And somehow I get the feeling none of those were steady dating material.” He shot the redhead a wry grin.
Daxter cackled delightedly. “Did I just hear you indirectly call somebody a skank? I think that’s what I just heard there!”
“I demand proof.”
“I have proof that you, my friend, are just a big, awkward goofball. I am going to inform your entire team that they have been deceived by a fake jock in their midst. And you could really use some pick-up pointers, Jakkie-boy. Don’t worry, though, I got yer totally awkward back… Jak, what’re you doin’? No, no, let go! Aaahh! Uncle! Uncle, damn it!”
Jak’s casual headlock and knuckles in fiery hair did not impede their progress down the sidewalk. “If you wanted to go with them so bad, you didn’t have to stay behind on my account, Mr. Big Shot.”
“Yeah, right, an’ let you mope off alone? Fake jock or not, yer still a bona fide football hero! Heroes don’t celebrate alone!” Even when Jak let him go Daxter couldn’t help but snicker as he followed along. “Seriously, though. Heartbreaker, Jak. That’s what you are. All those poor ladies bereft of your manly presence. What will they ever do?”
“Oh, please. Like they didn’t have a numerical list of the entire team in order of popularity that they’re going to try and probably succeed to hook up with at that party. Give them ten minutes and a beer and they won’t give me a second thought.”
“Denial ain’t just a creek in Egypt, Jakkie-boy, but whatever you say.”
The witty banter kept up as they walked, past the crush on the quad toward the quieter shopping and dining establishments that bordered the edge of the campus. Try as he might, Daxter couldn’t keep the stupid grin off his face. All that awkward anti-jock that kept shining through in Jak made the big lug all the more lovable. Heaven help him, but at that particular moment he wouldn’t have left Jak’s side for the world. Not even if the world wore a tiny little miniskirt.
- // - // - // - // -
Burgers, fries, and chocolate shakes possessed the uncanny power to soothe a young man’s soul. By the time the boys had sufficiently gorged themselves at the well-deserved feast, Jak was once again enveloped in the unique glow that was the aftermath of a winning game. Friday night lights had always had something of a magical effect on him, and the thrill of victory multiplied it tenfold. He and Daxter talked and laughed all through their late dinner, both in high spirits.
On the walk home he texted Keira. She already knew about their Homecoming, and had probably been watching it on TV, but Jak was still adjusting to not getting glomped by her after every game. Text hugs were essential.
“Did she watch it?” Daxter asked, trotting along at his side.
“Yeah, she did. She says I’m damn lucky Phoenix flew to my rescue. Hang on… I’m making her feel incredibly guilty for going to Kras U and leaving me to fend for myself against the cheerleaders.”
“Ha! She should totally feel awful. Leaving a poor, innocent kid like you all alone with the big scary girls.”
Jak gave Daxter a light shove as text-Keira beeped an answer. “She says—oh, God, you’re gonna love this, Dax. She says I obviously need to spread the rumor that I am gay and use my roommate as my fake boyfriend. Problem solved.”
Daxter laughed loudly and shoved him in return. “Oh, no. Flattered as I am over the chance to be the quarterback’s fake boyfriend, no way am I gonna cross those cheerleaders. If they thought I was all that stood in the way of a smokin’ hot Jak encounter the police would find my corpse on the quad with a pompom crammed down my throat.” He snickered again, obviously getting a kick out of the idea. “Besides, if you were gay then the rest’a yer own team would be after ya. The showers would never be safe for you again. You’d need a chaperone ta protect yer virtue in there.”
“Okay, abandoning this conversation. Thanks a lot, Keira.” Jak rolled his eyes and kept on walking.
The trip back to the dorm seemed too short, even though they meandered and took the most roundabout way imaginable. Truth was, even if he wasn’t interested in a wild after-party that night, Jak wasn’t ready for TV or bed yet. He was still too happy, the lingering buzz of triumph not yet dissipating. The building itself was almost eerily quiet, the usual hum of life snuffed by celebrations going on elsewhere, drawing out the great majority of the residents. By the time they reached their room Jak was on the cusp of proposing a random nighttime drive—he didn’t know where to; anywhere, really—when suddenly the problem was solved for him.
Almost before their door had closed, someone was banging on it. “Hey, Jak! Finally. We were starting to think you decided to hit the quad after all.”
“Feeling better, Phoenix?” Jak asked sarcastically as he let his teammate in.
Despite the tidy bandages over his eyebrow, Phoenix was grinning. “I never felt bad! Razer, however, seems to think I could drop from a concussion at any moment. So, in lieu of the excellent party we’re missing, I asked a little favor of him.”
“Oh?”
Razer followed his roommate in somewhat more quietly. He had a heavy backpack slung over one shoulder. “Alright, children, listen up. Rule number one: no throwing up on me. Rule number two: if anyone asks, I am not the one who bought this.” With that he unzipped the bag with a flourish. It was full of cans.
“You brought booze?!” Daxter squealed. He was across the room in seconds, lack of interest firmly abjured. “I didn’t know you were legal! This is fer me, too, right? I can have some? Please?”
Jak laughed through his facepalm as Razer hoisted the backpack over Daxter’s head. “And you snuck a case of beer past Torn, how?”
“In the backpack, of course. The case would have been far too obvious.”
“Let me see that.” Reaching over Daxter, who was bouncing and whining like an anxious puppy in his excitement, Phoenix claimed the backpack. “I brought something special, Jak. To really celebrate our win.”
“More special than illegal drinking bonanzas in a dry dorm?” Still. Jak came over to see this special thing.
“Much more special. You don’t happen to have any soda, do you?” And Phoenix pulled out a bottle of rum.
Razer stared in surprise. “Where did you get that?”
“From Jinx.”
“Jinx?” Jak looked up in surprise. “You mean chemistry lab tech Jinx?”
“Yeah, that’s him. He’s a pretty cool guy, actually. Even if most of his experiments do go wrong. Honestly I don’t think he minds too much anymore. The explosions are pretty spectacular. Hey!” Phoenix pulled the bottle out of reach, wagging a disapproving finger at Daxter. “This is not to be had by novices. There’s plenty of beer to tide you over.”
The redhead pouted a bit mutinously. Jak could almost see his desire to be included at all clashing with his offense at being treated like a kid. “How come? How do you know I never drank before?”
“Because I don’t think you want to spend tomorrow morning hurling your vitals up, and it’s written all over your overly-eager face.”
“Spoil sport,” Daxter muttered.
Jak laughed. “Don’t worry, Dax, you can try mine. Can you grab some cups?” The thrill of doing something mildly naughty never failed to make little hangouts like this automatically more fun. He pulled open the refrigerator portion of their room’s heat-n-keep, which they made sure to keep suitably stocked. “Okay, we’ve got root beer, cream soda, and Coke. What do you want, you guys?”
Razer wrinkled his nose. “I believe I will stick with your country’s piss-poor interpretation of beer, if it’s all the same. I shudder to think where that bottle has been if it once passed through Jinx’s sooty hands.”
With their neighbors snipping back and forth at each other, Daxter eagerly setting up plastic cups, and Killer cussing in his native weasel tongue to be let out of his cage, the room suddenly seemed a much livelier and desirable place to be. Jak grinned as he twisted open the soda bottle. This was obviously what life was all about.
- - - - -
“… and now they’re gone. Like, all of ‘em, just… gone!” Daxter gestured widely with his third beer, nearly empty. “Beats the hell out’a me, I’m tellin’ ya.”
Phoenix (down two glasses of Captain and Coke, a beer and a half, and several straight shots of spiced goodness) blinked wonderingly. “That’s amazing! I’ve heard of missing socks, but twelve pair in a month is fantastic. The laundry room must be cursed…”
Razer was working through an impressive beer number seven. He looked marginally more mussed than usual, jacket discarded over Jak’s desk chair and hair fingered into disarray. “That is ridiculous. If the laundry were cursed we would all be sockless. Obviously it is just Daxter who cannot hold onto his socks.”
“Hey, I take good care’a my socks!” Daxter protested indignantly. “I roll ‘em up in cute little balls an’ everything. I dunno why they won’t stay with me. It’s kinda sad, really… Is it hot in here, or am I jus’ crazy?”
“You’re not crazy, you’re tipsy.” Jak snorted from his bunk, where he had sprawled out to watch the fun.
“Wha? No m’not. I’ve not drunk hardly anything!”
The quarterback snickered. Daxter’s freckled cheeks and ears were indisputably flushed; his blue eyes glassy. There was being new to drinking in general, and there was simply being a natural lightweight. Jak was betting on both. “Whatever you say, Dax.”
“Yeah? Well, I say I’m goin’ downstairs. It’s stuffy in here. You wanna come?”
Jak considered. “Sure. Some cool air might be nice. You guys coming?”
Razer gnawed his lower lip lightly. Cigarette, or more beer? Cigarette, or staying in his comfy spot on the rug? “Perhaps later. I’ll stay.”
“Have fun, you two.” Phoenix swayed slightly as he got his feet under him, but recovered quickly. “I’m after some snacks.”
“Snacks in the cabinet,” Jak pointed out helpfully as he shrugged into his letter jacket. It would probably be getting chilly outside now, just past midnight.
“Thanks, but I know I left a box of Gushers in my desk. The blue ones. I love the blue ones.”
That settled that. Jak followed Daxter out into the hall and to the stairs, where the redhead spent a moment blinking down the dim stairwell before turning tail and choosing the elevator instead. Good choice, Jak thought. Stairs and liquor rarely mixed, unless a toboggan was involved.
Once outside, there was little to do but mill about aimlessly. This was okay with Jak and Daxter. The cool darkness was refreshing after the warm closeness of the room. Daxter rediscovered the low stone wall that bordered the walkway leading up to the main doors of the dorm and wobbled his way on top of it. Though his roommate was literally only a couple feet off the ground, Jak followed along beside him as a spotter. Better safe than calling an ambulance.
“Ain’t you tipsy at all?” Daxter asked, arms straight out at his sides for balance.
“A little. I didn’t have as much as you guys.” Two beers and the half of his rum and Coke that Daxter hadn’t begged out of him. “It’s cool. I don’t really drink to get drunk. Puking all the next day kind of ruins the fun for me.”
Daxter giggled, a rarely heard but adorable little sound that made Jak’s mouth twitch up into an immediate smile as the redhead rather clumsily sat down on the low wall. His sneakers brushed the concrete path. “Whatever. Should’a expected as much from the fake jock. I kinda like it, though. The drinkin’ thing. Feels good.”
“Feels good until you wake up with a headache. But yeah. It is kind of fun, isn’t it?” Jak sat down on the wall next to his friend and sighed happily. He could see the lights of the stadium away up over the trees, burning brightly until maintenance finished cleaning up all the abandoned cups and bottles and popcorn bags. The air smelled like falling leaves and damp, green turf.
“Today was a good day, huh?” Daxter said, voicing in his thoughts for him. “You won yer game, an’ we won the race.”
Jak poked him playfully in the side. “You mean you won the race. Give yourself a little more credit, here.”
“Whaaaaat.” Daxter smacked at his hand halfheartedly. “I still can’t believe we won ‘cause of me. It’s a weird thought, y’know?”
“What’s so weird about it? I told you you’d be great.”
“That’s what I’m talkin’ about.” Thin shoulders shrugged. “I guess I’m not used ta hearin’ stuff like that. It’s weird. Nobody ever cared how well I did before. Nobody ever really encouraged me or anything. After a while I just kinda… quit tryin’. Nobody expected me ta do good, so I didn’t.”
With a start, Jak realized what was happening. He was suddenly dealing with a decently inebriated, much less guarded redhead, and they were on the brink of a Deep Personal Conversation. While the stereotypically manly part of him inwardly screamed in agony and shielded its face, Jak was made of sterner stuff. He reached out to pat his friend on the shoulder with the bare minimum of awkwardness. “Yeah. It’s cool.”
Very smooth, Jak. Congratulations.
Daxter huffed. “Better knock it off or I’m gonna get used to it. Might do somethin’ stupid like try harder all’a time so I can keep hearin’ all that awesome fake-jock praise from ya.”
“Now you’re just being sarcastic. Watch yourself. Tipsy or not, if you keep insulting my hard-earned social status I’ll tackle your skinny ass off that wall and into the mulch. You’ll be spitting out marigolds for days.”
“Oooooh, fake-jock is mad! I’m so scared!” With another burst of smothered giggles, Daxter fell sideways and sprawled up against Jak’s side.
Before Jak’s brain could catch up with his body, he was reaching out. His arm wrapped around Daxter’s ribs and pulled him closer. Maybe he had been a little more affected by the beer than he had assumed. Maybe it was his total and complete lack of casual human contact for the past month and a half finally catching up with him. Whatever it was, having that squirmy, giggly presence at his side pleased Jak to no end. And, for whatever reason of his own, Daxter didn’t struggle. Maybe he had been missing casual human contact for a lot longer than Jak had. The green-blonde couldn’t dig too deeply into that thought, though, because a second later Daxter jumped.
“Whoa! What happened ta the lights?!”
“Hmm?” Jak looked up at the suddenly darker sky. “Oh, the floodlights at the stadium went off. They must be done cleaning up.”
“Wooooow.” Daxter craned his neck and looked up, bending backward so far in the process that he would have fallen off their perch without Jak’s steadying arm around him. “Hey, Jak, look up! It’s like the planetarium from third grade!”
Jak nodded in agreement and looked up too, though not quite so far. As his eyes adjusted to the lack of light more and more stars could be seen. “You should see the sky around my house. It’s even better than this.”
“Everyplace in the world has the same number’a stars, showoff.”
“I know that. But you can see a lot more of them at my place than you can here. Uncle and I live in the middle of nowhere. Woods and fields and farms all around us. Town is miles away. There’s no light pollution. Sometimes it’s like you can see every star in the whole universe.”
“Huh. Sounds… nice,” Daxter conceded.
Jak nodded and kept his eyes skyward. The breeze was cool, hinting heavily at the threshold of autumn, but Dax was warm against his side. For lack of reason to move, he kept his arm right where it was, draped across the redhead’s shoulders. They sat that way for several minutes while Jak slipped off into his own little world of Zen. It really had been an entirely excellent day.
Before long, though, the nagging feeling that he was forgetting something wormed in. Now, what could he have possibly…?
“Dax, we left Phoenix and Razer in our room. Come on, let’s get back before they think we fell in the pond and drowned.” Jak gave his roommate a little nudge. “Dax?” Another nudge, slightly more firm. “Dax, come on.” Nothing. “Are you seriously asleep?”
From how heavily the redhead was leaned against him, head pillowed against Jak’s shoulder, it was safe to say that he was. He nuzzled into Jak’s jacket with a dissatisfied murmur when Jak tried to lean away.
Jak choked down a laugh. That was just goddamn adorable. No boy over the age of seven should be allowed to reach that level of cute. He stood up slowly, one hand still planted on Daxter’s shoulder to keep him from pitching over. “Come on, Dax. We’re heading in. You’ll sleep a lot better in your bed.”
“Go ‘way!” Dax finally whined, indeed sounding very much like a sleepy seven-year-old. “M’tired! Don’ wanna walk right now, jeez.”
Bemused, Jak considered his options. Sure, he could just shake the sobriety back into his friend. He could leave him out here sans companionable body heat until the cold snapped him awake again. Or… he could just do this the easy way and be spared a whole lot of whining. “Okay. Guess I’ll carry you, then.”
“Huh?” Daxter blinked up at him blearily, ears tilted at an insidiously cute angle. He raised a hand to brush at his face and the over-long sleeve of his hoodie covered his fingers to the knuckles. “Fer real?”
“I picked you up this afternoon, didn’t I?” When it seemed like the other might hurt himself trying to remember back that far, Jak rolled his eyes and crouched down. “Come on. Get on.”
Daxter laughed, and did. He wrapped his arms around Jak’s neck and stepped off the wall, and off they went back to the dorm, Jak grabbing his legs behind the knees to keep him comfortably seated. “Damn, big guy, yer strong! S’like yer not even tryin’!”
“I’m not. You hardly weigh anything.” Under normal circumstances he would have gotten a glower and the cold shoulder for insinuating that the redhead was small. Under normal circumstances Dax never would have consented to being given a piggyback ride, either. “For the record, I think a job at Pizza Haven would be good for you. Get some meat on your scrawny bones.”
“So mean, Jak. So mean.”
Back inside, Jak realized that he didn’t have his keys. Neither did Daxter. The elevator couldn’t be used from the lobby without a keycard swipe. Grumbling under his breath at his own stupidity, the green-blonde took the stairs. It was more difficult than usual with a clinging passenger, sure, but he was the quarterback, damn it. He managed.
On the stairs between floors two and three Daxter perked up. “Heeey, Jakkie-boy. This is where me an’ you met, ain’t it? You remember that?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I do. I don’t think I’ll ever forget that, actually.”
“Kinda funny lookin’ back on it, ain’t it?” The redhead sighed, his warm breath ruffling a lock of hair right behind Jak’s ear in a way that made an involuntary shiver crawl up his spine. “I’m glad I met ya, Jak.”
Jak smiled softly. “Me, too. Even if you are making me carry you up the stairs.”
- - - - -
Luckily for both of them, Phoenix and Razer were still in the room to open the door for them when they arrived back. Unluckily for Phoenix and Razer, they had a small problem of their own.
“I said I’m sorry!” Phoenix cried, throwing his hands up in defeat. “I’ve said it a hundred times in the past twenty minutes! I’m not sure what else you want from me.”
Razer looked more ruffled than ever. “I’d have liked for you to not forget your damn keys whilst on your idiotic Gushers run and lock us out of our damned room! Mien Gott, I didn’t realize you were that drunk!”
“I guess forgetting keys is a common part of drinking in the dorms,” Jak laughed weakly. He let Daxter slide gently off his back. Said redhead, once freed, wobbled in place for a moment before falling back to sit on Jak’s bunk with a little squeak of cheap box springs. “Looks like you two are spending the night here, then.”
“I really must decline,” Razer said flatly.
Phoenix scoffed lightly. “And what will you do in that case? Sleep on the lounge sofa? With the buildup of random DNA all over those cushions, I wouldn’t suggest it.”
“Well, why did you suggest it, then?” Razer looked slightly ill.
“Torn has a master key to every lock in this hall,” Jak remembered. “You could always go wake him up.”
The normally suave exchange student groaned into his hands and brushed halfheartedly at the ferret on the floor beside him, licking off the rim of a nearly empty can. “No, I can’t, because if I do there is no chance whatsoever of him not realizing that something is going on in here. He’s like a damn fox hound. I am not going to be stuck with three counts of aiding and abetting minors.”
“So you’re sleeping over,” Jak grinned wryly. “Don’t worry about it. Stay the night here and in the morning we’ll clean up the cans, spray some Febreez, and no one will have any idea we were drinking. You can just explain to Torn how you dropped your keys at the game last night. Phoenix left his in his football locker at the stadium. He’ll let you in. Problem solved.”
An onyx eyebrow rose. “You’re far too quick with that alibi, boy.”
“When you grow up in the boonies with nothing to do but help your crazy genius mechanic of a best friend put homemade nitro boosters on the Farmer’s tractor, you get good at making up stories on the fly.” Standing on his toes, Jak pulled down the spare blanket he kept folded on top of his wardrobe. “Here. You guys will have to share, but it’s a queen size, not a twin. I think you’ll be fine.”
Razer looked down at the blanket he had been handed. At the relatively large and decently cush rug. At Phoenix, who was staring right back at him. He blanched under his slight beer-flush. “Oh, bloody hell.”
“Well, I’m overjoyed to be sleeping with you, too, darling.” Phoenix pulled the band out of his hair unconcernedly, finger combing through the dark strands as he turned to Jak. “Since Daxter is sleeping in your bed, can we have his pillows?”
“What? Daxter isn’t sleeping…” Jak glanced over at his bunk, and the oblivious redhead draped across it. He had weaseled out of his hoodie and balled it up under his head for a pillow. He was undeniably asleep. “… yeah, you can have his pillows.” There was no way Daxter would be getting up the ladder to the top bunk any time soon, even if Jak woke him up to do it. Jak didn’t particularly feel like using the top bunk himself, either. They could deal with being cramped for just one night, he decided.
“Do not touch me,” Razer growled as he and Phoenix settled in on the rug. “Not with your elbow. Not with your toe. This is all your fault.”
“Goodnight, sweetheart,” Phoenix simpered with a stupid grin before he rolled over and pulled the blanket up with a contented snicker.
Jak sighed as he kicked off his shoes and tugged off his shirt. “Cool it, you guys. Just consider this the slumber party we never had because we never knew each other as kids.”
“Making up for lost time, then?” Phoenix asked, already sounding drowsy.
“Something like that.” Down to his boxers, the green-blonde made one last sweep of the room. He caught Killer and returned him to his cage, then snapped off the light. Enough of a glow came up through the window from the lampposts down on the sidewalk outside that he could dimly see as he crawled carefully over Daxter and settled into the narrow spot between redhead and wall. At his movement Daxter shifted and made a small noise, but didn’t wake up. Jak snorted softly in amused contentment. “Goodnight, guys.”
Given the excitement of the day with an added chaser of booze, sleep came hard and fast. Past a fleeting gratefulness that he didn’t have to set his alarm for the next morning, Jak’s mind was blissfully blank. He was warm and comfortable and his best friend was beside him. A winner of a day, indeed.
- // - // - // - // -
To be continued.
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